"_Private McNulty; charged with destroying Government property_.
Corporal Mather!"
Corporal Mather clears his throat, and assuming the wooden expression
and fish-like gaze common to all public speakers who have learned
their oration by heart, begins--
"Sirr, on the night of the sixth inst. I was Orderly Sergeant. Going
round the prisoner's room about the hour of nine-thirty I noticed that
his three biscuits had been cut and slashed, appariently with a knife
or other instrument."
"What did you do?"
"Sirr, I inquired of the men in the room who was it had gone for to do
this. Sirr, they said it was the prisoner."
Two witnesses are called. Both, certify, casting grieved and virtuous
glances at the prisoner, that this outrage upon the property of His
Majesty was the work of Private McNulty.
To the unsophisticated Bobby Little this charge appears rather a
frivolous one. If you may not cut or slash a biscuit, what _are_ you
to do with it? Swallow it whole?
"Private McNulty?" queries the Captain.
Private McNulty, in a voice which is shrill with righteous
indignation, gives the somewhat unexpected answer--
"Sirr, I plead guilty!"
"Guilty--eh? You did it, then?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why?"
This is what Private McNulty is waiting for.
"The men in that room, sirr," he announces indignantly, "appear tae
look on me as a sort of body that can be treated onyways. They go for
tae aggravate me. I was sittin' on my bed, with my knife in my hand,
cutting a piece bacca and interfering with naebody, when they all
commenced tae fling biscuits at me. I was keepin' them off as weel as
I could; but havin' a knife in my hand, I'll no deny but what I gave
twa three of them a bit cut."
"Is this true?" asks the Captain of the first witness, curtly.
"Yes, sir."
"You saw the men throwing biscuits at the prisoner?"
"Yes, sir."
"He was daen' it himsel'!" proclaims Private McNulty.
"This true?"
"Yes, sir."
The Captain addresses the other witness.
"You doing it too?"
"Yes, sir."
The Captain turns again to the prisoner.
"Why didn't you lodge a complaint?" (The schoolboy code does not
obtain in the Army.)
"I did, sir. I tellt"--indicating Corporal Mather with an elbow--"this
genelman here."
Corporal Mather cannot help it. He swells perceptibly. But swift
puncture awaits him.
"Corporal Mather, why didn't you mention this?"
"I didna think it affected the crime, sir."
"Not your business to think. Only to make a straightforward charge. Be
very careful in future. You other two"--the witnesses come guiltily to
attention--"I shall talk to your platoon sergeant about you. Not going
to have Government property knocked about!"
Bobby Little's eyebrows, willy-nilly, have been steadily rising during
the last five minutes. He knows the meaning of red tape now!
Then comes sentence.
"Private McNulty, you have pleaded guilty to a charge of destroying
Government property, so you go before the Commanding Officer. Don't
suppose you'll be punished, beyond paying for the damage."
"Right turn! Quick march!" chants the Sergeant-Major.
The downtrodden McNulty disappears, with his traducers. But Bobby
Little's eyebrows have not been altogether thrown away upon his
Company Commander.
"Got the biscuits here, Sergeant-Major?"
"Yes, sirr."
"Show them."
The Sergeant-Major dives into a pile of brown blankets, and presently
extracts three small brown mattresses, each two feet square. These
appear to have been stabbed in several places with a knife.
Captain Blaikie's eyes twinkle, and he chuckles to his now
scarlet-faced junior--
"More biscuits in heaven and earth than ever came out of Huntley and
Palmer's, my son! Private Robb!"
Presently Private Robb stands at the table. He is a fresh-faced,
well-set-up youth, with a slightly receding chin and a most dejected
manner.
"_Private Robb_," reads the Captain. "_While on active service, drunk
and singing in Wellington Street about nine p.m. on Saturday, the
sixth_. Sergeant Garrett!"
The proceedings follow their usual course, except that in this case
some of the evidence is "documentary"--put in in the form of a report
from the sergeant of the Military Police who escorted the melodious
Robb home to bed.
The Captain addresses the prisoner.
"Private Robb, this is the second time. Sorry--very sorry. In all
other ways you are doing well. Very keen and promising soldier. Why is
it--eh?"